


cold feet

by waveydnp



Series: amaaf verse [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Foot Fetish, Foot Massage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content, kind of, reference to bad sexual experiences, reference to self harm scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 21:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16126649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: This feels wrong. It feels dirty and deviant and shameful and it’s all too much.“It’s ok, Phil,” Dan says softly, pulling his foot away and planting it on the floor beside the other. “If you like it, you know. It’s ok.”-an amaaf timestamp about sex, feet, and letting go of internalized shame





	cold feet

“Why d’you want me to do it?” Phil asks. “Do you not remember the last time I tried to paint your nails?”

Dan’s laid out on the other end of the sofa, their long legs all intertwined in the small space. It’s late at night and they’re both exhausted from a long shift of slinging lattes and mopping sticky floors. 

But they got to work it together, a rare occurrence nowadays, so Phil’s not really complaining. His feet are sore and he smells like mocha and espresso, but he’s happy.

“I remember,” Dan says. “I remember that it was cute as fuck and an important bonding moment for us.”

Phil smiles. It’s a nice thought, even if it is reductive of just how bad the finished product had actually looked. “It’s not going to look good,” he warns.

“Not bothered about that,” Dan replies. “No one’s gonna see it but you anyway.”

“Lucky me,” Phil murmurs. He’s not being mean. He means it. Any part of Dan he gets to see is a part he loves seeing. 

“Maybe I’m just trying to be a good boyfriend and indulge your foot thing,” Dan says, nudging Phil’s thigh with his socked toes. 

“I don’t have a foot thing, I have a Dan thing,” Phil replies, his standard answer. He grabs Dan’s foot and presses his thumb into the arch of the sole. 

“Mhm,” Dan hums disbelievingly. “Do I get a massage as well?”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Go shower first. And I get to pick the colour.”

Dan grins, sitting up and leaning forward to plant a kiss on Phil’s lips. He pulls away with a wet smacking sound that has Phil wanting to grab him and pull him back for more.

“Deal,” Dan says. 

Phil picks a black polish with little glittery things in it. He’s seen Dan wear it before and always likes it when he does. Then he pokes his head round the corner of the bathroom door. “What lotion do you want?”

“Whichever one you like the best,” Dan answers. “This is as much for you as it is for me.”

“I _don’t_ have a foot thing,” Phil insists. 

Dan comes out into the lounge when he’s done washing, wearing an oversized Radiohead t-shirt and a pair of pink boxers. He’s flushed from the heat of the water and his legs look somehow even longer than usual. He plops down onto the sofa next to Phil, who runs his fingers over the raised lines of the scars on his thighs.

Dan smiles when Phil makes a surprised face, sliding his palm down to Dan’s calf. It’s smoother than it should be, silky and completely hairless.

“Did you shave?” Phil asks. It’s not unheard of but still not a common occurrence.

“Mhm.”

Phil runs his hand back up to Dan’s thigh and squeezes. “Feels nice.”

“Thought you might like that,” Dan murmurs, leaning over and kissing Phil with surprising depth for being close-mouthed.

“I like you always,” Phil murmurs back. 

He’s heard people talk about the honeymoon phase. He thinks he understands, most people lose that sense of overwhelming need to have their partner close, that giddy excitement at every touch and every smile, but he still hasn’t. Not even close. He kind of hopes he never will. 

“What colour did you pick?” Dan asks. Phil hands him the bottle and Dan smiles. “You love glitter.”

“I love glitter on you.”

“Well let’s do this then,” Dan says, lifting his feet and placing them on the edge of the coffee table. Phil’s eyes follow the long lines of Dan’s legs down to the toes Dan’s wiggling, no doubt for his benefit.

He’s not admitting to his love of Dan’s feet being a _thing_ , but he does love them. They _are_ lovely feet. 

“Massage first or painting?” Phil asks.

“Painting. You’re gonna get distracted once the massaging starts and I want my toes to be pretty.”

“Oh shut up,” Phil says fondly. “I’m not gonna get distracted. And my painting won’t be pretty and you know it.”

“In a few days when all the paint you get on my skin washes off they’ll be pretty,” Dan says smirking. “And you’d _better_ get distracted, I shaved my legs for you.”

“If you’re horny we can just go to bed,” Phil says, hoping Dan will agree. He’s feeling strangely nervous all of a sudden that he’s going to be forced to learn something about himself that he doesn’t understand.

“Just paint my nails please, Phil. I’ll stop, ok? I’ll stop teasing. I’m sorry. I really do want them painted and I want you to do it.”

“Fine. Gimme that.” He plucks the bottle out of Dan’s hands. “How do we do this?”

Dan lifts his feet up off the table and says, “You sit here.”

Phil sits on the table and Dan drops a foot between his thighs and wiggles his toes again. 

“Keep still,” Phil scolds.

Dan laughs softly. “How steady are your hands today?”

“Not.” He starts unscrewing the cap anyway. 

“Take your time,” Dan murmurs. 

“I’ll take your mum’s time.”

“Oi. Karen did not ask to be dragged into this.”

“Shush,” Phil says. He pats his thigh, glad for the fact that he’s wearing black sweats, as surely he’s going to get varnish all over them. Dan shifts to the side a little and puts his foot half up onto where Phil had patted.

Phil takes a moment just to look at the strange elegance of Dan’s long toes. He doesn’t think the urge he has to kiss them has to be a big deal. It’s not some kind of compulsion, they just look nice. He runs a finger horizontally across each one, enjoying how smooth the skin is there. 

Dan doesn’t say anything. Phil’s glad. 

He pulls the brush out of the bottle and wipes the excess polish off against the inside of the glass. “I’m gonna actually try,” he says, holding Dan’s big toe in place and bringing the brush down onto the nail slowly and carefully. His hands have that slight tremor to them that they always do, but if he goes slow enough maybe he can override it.

“Thank you,” Dan says quietly. “That colour’s dark enough that one coat should be enough.”

“Thank god.”

He manages to get the big toe done without messing up too much, taking time when he’s done to admire his handiwork.

“It looks good,” Dan says.

Phil feels warm with the praise. “That was the easy one though,” he mutters. “Don’t get your hopes up that they’ll all be that good.”

“It doesn’t matter. This is nice, isn’t it?”

Phil looks up at Dan’s face and smiles at the sincerity he finds there. “It is.”

Dan pushes the ball of his foot gently into Phil’s thigh. “Keep going.”

He goes even slower then. The smaller nails are much less forgiving. He knows Dan expects nothing more than a mess, but he actually wants to do a nice job. Toes this lovely deserve a decent paint job.

The thought jumps out at him as soon as it’s entered his brain. It’s not an unusual thought for him to have, but it’s only now that he’s realizing maybe it’s not the kind of thing that’s actually considered normal to think about.

He gets the pinky toenail painted and, miraculously, he’s done alright. It looks pretty good. The paint job is ok but Dan’s toes look… fuck. Really good. Again he gets the urge to lean down and kiss them.

He clears his throat, hoping the urge will go with go it. “Next foot,” he says, his voice a little more gravelly than he’d like.

“You ok?” Dan asks, switching the position of his feet.

Phil nods. “Trying to stay focused.”

“You did really well,” Dan says, and Phil feels that warmth again. “I should get you to do this for me every time.”

Phil rolls his eyes but can’t bring himself to actually argue. Dan puts his foot up onto the inside of Phil’s thigh and kind of - kind of rubs. Phil’s eyes dart upwards to meet Dan’s and they share a look, moment of loaded silence.

He could tell Dan to stop, and he’d stop. He could tell Dan to drop it, and he’d drop it. He’d leave it alone and probably wouldn’t ever bring it up again. 

Phil’s not sure yet, though. He’s not sure he wants that, because he’s starting to wonder if Dan’s been right all along. 

Dan’s feet are beautiful, and Phil loves them. But there isn’t a single part of Dan that Phil _doesn’t_ love. So how is he supposed to know the difference?

Surely he’s half hard in his sweats because Dan’s sat in front of him in his underwear with his legs spread, his foot inching closer and closer to Phil’s dick, right?

“Keep still,” Phil croaks. He pulls the brush out quickly and gets to work painting.

Unfortunately it’s not really a distraction; it just means that he’s staring very closely and noticing even more how fond he is of this particular nail polish and the way it sparkles when it catches the light and how dark a black it is in contrast to Dan’s fair skin. 

Would he even be noticing this stuff if Dan hadn’t teased him about it earlier? He’s not sure, but he supposes it doesn’t much matter. He _is_ noticing it. There’s a slow gentle swelling between his legs to confirm just how much he’s noticing it. 

The second foot doesn’t come out as well as the first. It’s definitely sloppier, but all things considered Phil’s going to count it a success.

“Done,” he announces, screwing the lid back on the bottle and tossing in onto the sofa beside Dan. He needs to get up and go to the toilet to calm himself down. 

Before he can do that, though, Dan is lifting his foot up to Phil’s face. 

Phil’s heart stops.

“Blow,” Dan says softly, looking right into Phil’s eyes. It feels intense, like Phil couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. 

He leans down and blows, lightly, probably too lightly to actually be of any use drying the polish faster, but Dan’s eyes are burning a hole into his and it feels more intimate than something like this has any right to. 

“Is the other foot dry?” Phil asks.

Dan lets the freshly painted one drop and lifts up the other, and Phil gasps when he presses it gently against his cock.

His mostly hard cock.

“You tell me,” Dan says.

Phil can’t really think straight anymore, fear and desire gripping him in equal measure, but he pokes at the nail of Dan’s big toe to see if it’s still wet or not.

“It’s dry,” he croaks.

“Massage time?” Dan asks. He fits his toes around the shape of Phil through his sweatpants and rubs.

“Dan,” Phil chokes. It feels good but he’s terrified, and that’s what comes out in his voice.

This feels wrong. It feels dirty and deviant and shameful and it’s all too much.

“It’s ok, Phil,” Dan says softly, pulling his foot away and planting it on the floor beside the other. He shuffles forward until he’s sat on the edge of the sofa, his hands resting on either of Phil’s knees. “If you like it, you know. It’s ok.”

Phil shakes his head.

“You don’t like it?” Dan asks.

“That’s not- I’m not saying that.”

Dan squeezes Phil’s knees. “Do you want to stop?”

Phil just looks into those warm brown eyes helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“I really didn’t mean to push so hard,” Dan says. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” Phil whispers. 

“Phil. Listen, ok?”

Phil nods.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know that right? It’s not weird.”

“It _is_ weird,” Phil argues.

“If it’s something between you and me and you like it, it’s not weird and I want to do it, ok? This isn’t even weird. You could tell me you want to wee on me and I still wouldn’t think it’s weird. Feet are not weird. Me doing something or letting you do something that makes you feel good is literally all I want.”

“Well why don’t you have weird stuff?” Phil asks.

“It’s not weird,” Dan corrects. “And anyway, I do. I have stuff.”

“You’ve never told me anything.”

“Because, Phil. I feel like we’re still getting comfortable with the basics.”

Phil feels something like inadequacy twisting his stomach up into knots. “You’re bored.”

“No,” Dan says firmly. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Phil. I know sex can be scary for you. I’m not about to introduce you to my kinks before you’re comfortable with vanilla.”

“Kinks? You have more than one?”

Dan frowns. “We’re not supposed to be talking about me.”

Phil chews on his lip and looks away, off into the corner of the room where Dan’s keyboard is leaned up against the wall. “So it’s a kink?” he asks weakly. “Me liking your feet is a kink?”

“You don’t have to call it that,” Dan says, giving Phil’s knee another reassuring squeeze.

“Well what should I call it?” 

“You don’t have to call it anything. It’s not a big deal. I’m sorry I made you feel like it was. I just want you to feel ok liking the things you like.” He reaches out for Phil’s hand and tugs on it. “C’mere please.” He pulls Phil onto the sofa next to him and before Phil can say anything else their lips are pressed together and Dan’s hands are cradling his face.

Phil kisses back without hesitation. This part is so easy. This part feels good with no shame attached, even as he parts his lips and slips his tongue gently against Dan’s. It’s dirty in a way that feels acceptable, and he already feels the tension in his muscles beginning to dissipate. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” Phil whispers when their mouths pull apart.

“That’s fine,” Dan whispers back. “I just want you to know I’d do anything you wanted, and when I tease you about it it’s not because I think it’s weird or bad, ok?”

Phil nods and kisses him again. “Will you tell me one of yours?” 

Dan shakes his head firmly. “That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because, Phil,” Dan says, and his voice is so so gentle. “I don’t have trauma.”

It still scares him to hear that word applied to his own life and experiences, but he’s been in therapy long enough to know now that that’s what it was. That’s the effect it had on him. It traumatized him. 

“I want you to feel empowered in the things that _you_ want,” Dan says. “So you decide when you’re ready. I promise I won’t bring it up anymore.” He kisses Phil’s forehead. “Let’s go to bed.” 

He starts to stand but Phil says, “Not yet.”

Dan gives him a questioning look.

“I still owe you a massage.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Phil. That’s the whole point.”

“I _want_ to give you a foot massage,” Phil says, leaning forward to grab the lotion off the coffee table. “Ok?”

Dan smiles, shuffling back so he’s leaned up against the armrest of the sofa. “Ok.” He lifts his feet and puts them in Phil’s lap.

Phil looks down at them and then back over at Dan. “I might get turned on again,” he warns.

“That’s ok. We don’t have to do anything.”

“But we could,” Phil says, feeling suddenly emboldened. “If I wanted to.”

“Yes.”

Phil’s already feeling that slight swelling sensation again when he opens the lid of the lotion and squeezes out a generous amount. He rubs it between his palms to warm it and then picks up one of Dan’s lovely feet.

Dan’s eyes fall closed and Phil runs his hands all over them, smoothing the sweet smelling stuff over every inch of his skin, wrapping his hands around and pressing his thumbs into the sole in little circles. He does it like that for a while before pushing his thumbs up with a firm pressure to massage just underneath the toes and Dan sighs.

“That feels really good.”

Phil keeps massaging for a long time. Something about having Dan in his hands like this makes it feel better. It almost feels like it makes sense. Feet are body parts like any other, why should should some parts be shameful to find arousing and not others?

It doesn’t feel wrong to pick up the foot not covered in lotion and drop kisses from the ankle all the way up to the big toe before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it. It tastes sharp from the varnish and feels foreign on his tongue but it’s new and exciting and yes - maybe a little strange, but in a good way. It feels like trust and intimacy and all the things he thinks sex should be.

Dan doesn’t act like it’s wrong. He pulls his foot from Phil’s hand and presses it to his crotch to find again that Phil is hard, and this time Phil doesn’t get scared. He lets Dan rub him through his sweats and kisses each toe of the other foot before grabbing Dan’s hands, falling back and pulling Dan forward so they end up lying chest to chest. 

“That was hot,” Dan mumbles against Phil’s lips. 

“Yeah,” Phil pants back. He’s gripping Dan’s hips and rolling his own upwards, searching for friction against Dan’s body.

Dan’s mouth has moved down to Phil’s neck, sucking and licking and kissing in a way that’s almost frenzied - in a way that makes Phil wonder if maybe Dan liked it just as much as Phil did. He shoves his hands into Phil’s pants and squeezes around the length of him. “I wanna make you come now.”

“Yeah yeah, please,” Phil grunts.

“Can I use my mouth?”

Phil answers by working his hands in between them and shoving his sweatpants down enough to expose himself. Dan doesn’t waste a single second moving down Phil’s body and taking him in.

It’s so warm and wet and Dan is giving it his all, sucking hard and working a few fingers back to press against the soft bit behind Phil’s balls. Phil groans and closes his eyes and pictures long toes with glittering black nails and it’s only a matter of minutes before he’s coming right into Dan’s mouth. 

Dan swallows and climbs back up to kiss the side of Phil’s mouth before collapsing on top of him. The air whooshes out of Phil’s lungs and he laughs, wrapping his arms around Dan’s torso and burying his face in his neck. He feels a little overwhelmed, more so than he usually does after sex with Dan. Maybe even a little more vulnerable, so to have Dan’s weight pressing him down into the sofa and the smell of Dan’s hair filling his nose actually feels intensely comforting. 

“D’you wanna talk?” Dan asks eventually.

Phil shakes his head. “Maybe tomorrow. M’super sleepy.”

Dan chuckles, breathy right into Phil’s ear. “K let’s go to bed.”

“Mm, what ‘bout you though?” Phil mumbles.

“I’m ok. Just wanna cuddle you now. C’mon, bed.” He rolls off of Phil’s chest and stands, reaching out a hand to help Phil up.

“Get you back in the morning,” Phil promises.

“Phil, it’s fine. C’mon.”

Phil lets Dan pull him to their room and take off his shirt for him before crawling under the covers. Dan pulls his own shirt off and slips in next to Phil and their bodies come together in something like a pretzel without a word. Phil needs this tonight and Dan knows it. 

“You ok?” Dan asks, stroking Phil’s hair back off his forehead.

Phil nods. He thinks he is. If he’s not, he’s too tired to even know it. 

“Ok, sleep,” Dan whispers. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

Phil nods again. “Love you.”

“Love you too. And also I’m proud of you.”

“For sucking your toe?” Phil asks. He’s so tired he’s close to delirious now. 

“Yeah, actually. That’s exactly what I’m proud of you for.”

Phil laughs. He’s mostly asleep already.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to mandy and zan as always <3


End file.
